


War Movies

by Cuda (Scylla)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, Movie Night, Team Free Will, War Movies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 01:18:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3310442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scylla/pseuds/Cuda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel's trying very hard not to contribute to Dean's downfall. Sam catches wind of what's going on, and corners Castiel to lay down the law.</p>
            </blockquote>





	War Movies

Castiel's grocery bag crinkled as he set it down between the warring Winchester siblings. When they broke eye contact and ceased bickering with each other, he congratulated himself. Winchesters had a not inconsiderable resemblance to dogs, on occasion.

If only they responded to positive reinforcement training.

"I've got your movies," Castiel reported, removing the rentals Sam and Dean requested in stacks, "these should outlast the snowstorm."

"I still can't believe Netflix didn't have these online," Dean flipped the DVD cases over one at a time, scanning the covers, "these are classics."

Sam snorted a laugh. "I think your idea and Netflix's idea of a classic are a little different."

"I think the concept of a 'classic' is entirely subjective," Castiel argued, "if I were to hazard a guess, it's a matter of contractual limitations and preference statistics."

Dean eased back into the arms of his chair, and waved a triumphant hand at Sam. "There, you see? Contractual limitations and statistics. Netflix has zero taste." His eyes wandered the second stack of films Castiel removed from the grocery bag, and his eyebrows lifted. "Dude, Sam, I didn't know you were into war movies."

"He's not," Castiel said quickly, reaching for the films, "these are for me." He wasn't quite fast enough to defeat Sam, however, as long arms and broad hands unfurled across the table and swept the movies out of his reach.

" _Guns of Navarone,_ and _All Quiet on the Western Front,_ " Sam's brows seemed to hike higher with every title he announced, " _The Fighting Seabees,_ _Das Boot,_ _The Caine Mutiny,_ _Battle of the Bulge_...?" He stamped the last title with a question mark. Castiel spread his hands with a shrug. He felt guilty and wasn't sure why.

Dean cranked his eyes up from the DVDs to fix Castiel with a lazy smile. He looked amused, not accusatory. "You a war buff, Cas? Kinda makes sense, I guess."

The secret didn't sound quite so bad out in the open, particularly when Dean said it without judgment. "Yes," Castiel said, "A... while back I began consuming popular human media. I've discovered that knowing references is frustrating without context." Both Winchesters flashed him identical odd looks, which he waved off. "I discovered that I... like military movies. This kind. The battles are idealized, but the tactics are sound."

Sam, who had the movies spread before him like playing cards, sampled _The Guns of Navarone_ and handed it to Castiel. "Maybe we oughta start with one tonight. I remember liking this one when Dad watched it."

"Yeah, he didn't like much," Dean's smile was real, "but he'd watch Gregory Peck juggle oranges with his feet, man."

The mental image pushed a chuckle out of Castiel. He shook his head and gathered up the movies, sharing a meaningful glance with Sam. "I'd rather watch them alone," he said, and returned them to the now-empty sack, eyes carefully down.

"Yeah, but those are guy movies," Dean protested, "they're better if you watch 'em with a group of guys. Especially us guys. Hell, we could probably critique the knife fights for accuracy."

From his periphery, Castiel could see Sam still looking at him. "Ah, that's okay, Cas. You're gonna watch _Monty Python and the Holy Grail_ with us, though, right?"

With a quiet sigh of relief, Castiel nodded. "Yes. The references of _that_ movie are nearly incomprehensible."

He hurried away to the kitchen with the box of microwave popcorn sleeves, leaving Dean, frowning, behind him.

-

The microwave was a bargain appliance and made a ridiculous amount of racket, but Castiel still heard the soft rap against the kitchen doorframe. Sam leaned in the door, and they shared a long look.

"For what it's worth, Cas," Sam said, "I don't think those movies are all that violent. Not compared to, like, _Saving Private Ryan,_ or _Fury._ "

Castiel shook his head. "It's not worth the risk," he replied, adamant.

"We can't--" Sam started to argue, looked back over his shoulder, and sighed. He came into the room and leaned against the counter next to Castiel. "He's doing really good. And in the end it's his fight. You can't vet all his movies for fight scenes."

"I won't knowingly contribute," Castiel studied the growing popcorn sleeve in the microwave, "I've contributed enough."

Sam sighed again, longer this time, sidled over and bumped Castiel's shoulder. "You gonna take credit next time I do something stupid that makes me go crazy?"

"It's alarming that you think it's a matter of time."

Sam did nothing to dissuade him and they stood without talking, letting the popcorn's superheated fury fill the silence. "Nobody blames you for the decisions we make, Cas. If they do, they're dead wrong."

"I've deliberately put you in harm's way, left you without support, lied, manipulated..."

"We haven't done the same stuff to you?"

The rattle of popcorn died down. Castiel turned off the microwave before it scalded. "Not without reason."

"Cas..." Sam shoved a hand through his hair and shook his head. "Anyone keeping score is an asshole. You're family."

The forgiveness in Sam's voice and in his words was tangible. It wounded Castiel. He reached for the popcorn and stepped away quickly.

"You told Dean he wasn't responsible for every crap thing that happened to us," Sam called after him, "I think it applies to you too."

"Sam, _stop,_ " Castiel snapped. And then he was being gently turned around, and Sam was a giant filling his vision. Huge somehow, even to a creature dwarfing skyscrapers. Castiel wasn't sure what happened next; some miracle of human emotional physics. Magnetic force of need and purpose intertwined; twinned. Sam was in Castiel's arms, easily as breath. The solid bigness of him made a comforting stability to cling to.

Castiel looked up, finding Sam's eyes on him already. This human, this miracle of stars and chance, gazed at Castiel like the sun. A question darted between them that had been there before, familiar, and this time new.

"You gotta watch _all_ of those movies alone?" Sam asked.

"No," Castiel replied a little breathlessly, pushing back to retrieve the bag of popcorn he'd dropped. He looked up at Sam, still watching him with a thread of gold-bright interest. "I believe some of them are better with company."

Sam's hand closed on Castiel's shoulder. He paused, sharing the space like a warm blanket. "Save me one."

They returned to the greatroom together, a new glow of heat between them.

In the low light during the movie, Castiel slipped _The Guns of Navarone_ surreptitiously into Dean's stack of films.

Sam was right, after all. About many things.


End file.
